


Survival Instincts: Rehone

by Beyondskyslimits



Category: Survival Instincts - May Dawney
Genre: Dystopian, F/F, Fluff, LGBTQ Character, Post-War, Survival, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:54:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28009557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beyondskyslimits/pseuds/Beyondskyslimits
Summary: A fan's continuation of Survival Instincts by May Dawney.Lynn Tanner's entire life revolved around survival. Her only goal was to make it to the next day. There was nothing beyond that. At least that was the case until she met Dani Wilson. A handful of seemingly meaningless turns led her into a life so much more than survival. Now she's here, settling down as her trial period at the Homestead comes to an unceremonious end. Life as a Settler isn't all that bad considering the woman she loves is alive and well and still calls the Homestead home. Despite all the benefits, it hasn't come easy for Lynn. Even with the end of civilization and humans no longer top of the food chain, she craves to return to the Wilds; away from all the rules and half-hearted human interaction. An offered role as liaison grants a taste of that freedom, however, it comes at a cost. It's a death-sentence to roam the unruly concrete jungle alone, especially when you have someone waiting for you to come home.
Relationships: Lynn Tanner/Dani Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Survival Instincts: Rehone

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I am not a professional writer and am merely writing this for fun because of how much the original book moved me. It has minimal editing and uploading new chapters will revolve around my full-time jobs. More tags will be added as more chapters are written. That being said, I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter One

The room is cast in shadows from the single flickering flame of the candle planted on Lynn’s bedside table. Collecting as many hours of sleep as possible should be the only thing Lynn is focused on, however, her mind is racing. Tomorrow marks one full season since joining the Homestead — the end of her trial period. When dawn breaks the empty sky, she’ll be a full-fledged Settler. Somewhere deep inside, the term still unnerves her. It also marks a season since the incident that nearly cost Dani her life. The only woman — person — she dared let enter the protective walls upholding her existence.

Lynn rolls to her side. She watches as the shadows drive Dani’s sleeping features deeper. Her lips are parted slightly. Drool escapes to the pillow below. The lines of stress that are ever-present during the day vanish once the night settles and the two of them climb into bed. It’s their time to be together, to attune themselves and their relationship — the word no longer harder to swallow than molasses. Whilst they see each other in passing throughout the day, quick kisses and glances are all they usually manage to steal when there is always work to be done.

Dani began her old hunting routine in small portions weeks ago. It took a while, but she adjusted to the long hours on her feet and throwing her spear without shooting pain rushing to the mangled scars across her abdomen.

The thought of how she obtained those scars has memories flooding back to Lynn. The iron-rich stench of boiling bear blood and the sounds of Dani’s whimpered cries overwhelm her thoughts. She pinches her eyes shut and shakes her head until it passes in a blur.

Eyes the color of chestnuts are locked with Lynn’s as she returns from the depths of her unrelenting mind. “Nightmare?” Dani questions in a sleep-encumbered voice.

Lynn tucks a loose strand of hair behind Dani’s ears, resting her hand along the woman’s jaw. “Not as long as you’re here.”

Dani observes her for a silent moment. “Too excited to sleep?”

That was a more accurate assessment. Along with all of tomorrow’s events, it was also Lynn’s first solo voyage. She had taken on Richard’s role as liaison with more than a few bumps in the road. Scouting is something she knew she could handle, but Lynn was far from equipped to deal with other settlements. Now it is part of her duty to the Homestead — make and finalize trades, keep relations up, and always come out ahead on supplies — something the many stories of a charming and charismatic Richard was perfect at. Not for Lynn, who still struggles to crack a smile around the others within the group she now relies upon, at least partially. But it will be her first real taste of freedom in months.

“Maybe a little,” Lynn sighs, pulling Dani an inch closer and ghosting a gentle kiss to her lips.

The woman smiles into their connection. “You won’t be so giddy in the morning if you’re up half the night.” As much as Lynn hated to admit it, Dani was right. With the monstrosity of the Homestead, Lynn no longer had to fear the oblivion of restful sleep or being shaken awake too soon for split-watch shifts. She knew in the Wilds her survival instincts would keep her up, but not tonight. 

Lynn turns away to pinch out the candle. The void overtakes the small space she and Dani have been sharing since arriving back at the Homestead. In the dark, she fumbles under the blankets to find the warmth of Dani once again before pulling her close. “I know. Let’s get some sleep.”

***

Lynn wakes with a start to what feels like a bolder colliding into her chest. Her eyes fly open as Skeever gallops around the mattress with no regard as he barrels over both Dani and Lynn, sweeping a slobbery tongue over their faces. Dani groans, grabbing the edge of the blanket and yanks it over her face in an attempt to block out the usual wake up call.   
Skeever has to pee and no amount of begging for him to calm will change his mind.

The dog paces the floor as Lynn pulls on her leather jacket and boots. Securing her tomahawk in one hand, she cracks the door open. Skeever rockets down the hall, nearly smashing into Ren as she enters the kitchen. Lynn offers a half-smile in apology, rushing after him.

Five floors down, nothing except the slivers of sunlight that sneaks in under the main doors and between window boards are visible. It’s too costly for candles to burn all night, but Lynn makes this trip nearly every morning. She could do it blindfolded, which isn’t that far off from her current view. Skeever’s tail thumps wildly against the wall as she secures the handles, flooding the massive room in golden light. Fresh air explodes throughout the building, replacing the stuffy atmosphere with new life — crisp and scented heavily in autumn dew. 

Lynn unravels the rope from the swing-gate surrounding the Homestead’s entrance. Skeever dances on his toes until he too is free of the confines of the Homestead. He lifts his leg to the side of the building, bolting after a small creature that scurries by before he’s finished with his business. A soft smile settles across Lynn’s features.

After a few minutes, Lynn whistles a sharp note. Skeever immediately returns to her side, bumping his bulk against her calf and licking his reddened muzzle. “It’s my turn for breakfast, Skeeve,” Lynn mumbles, patting a hand to his flank.

Moments later Lynn turns into the Homestead’s kitchen. The smell of fresh flatbread has her mouth salivating before she’s taken a seat at the half-full table. Kate and her two sons, Toby, and Dean, fill out the majority of one edge. Flint leans unbothered against the wall near the end of the table. Hesitantly, Lynn settles on the opposite side, away from the others, but not so much as to close herself off completely. The head of the table is unanimously always reserved for Cody.

“Do you have everything prepared for today’s trip?” Lynn’s head shoots up to find Kate awaiting a reply. 

Lynn nods promptly. “Everything you authorized for trade is packed onto the cart.”

“Good.” Kate’s one-word response isn’t out of the ordinary. Although Lynn and Kate made amends upon the recovery of Richard’s body, there was still a constricting air between them; something Lynn wasn’t sure would ever dissolve. 

Before the tension could peek, a warm pair of arms envelops Lynn from behind. Dani places a light kiss on Lynn’s forehead before sliding into the chair beside her. Heat flares to Lynn’s cheeks. It isn’t the act of affection, more so the setting in which it occurred. The chattering at the table hasn’t ceased, but she can feel all their gazes upon them.

“Who’s ready for breakfast?” Ren calls as she enters, balancing a plate piled high with bacon. The perfect distraction; thank the heavens.

After an ample breakfast of bacon, eggs, fruits, and buttered potato-flatbread, the Homestead shifts methodically into their daily duties. Dani holds back, accompanying Lynn to the first floor, where the wagon of supplies awaits. “You’re sure you have everything?” Dani questions. 

Lynn pulls on her worn backpack, which they packed together last night. Dani knows nothing is missing, but the implication is clear — I’m worried about you.

“I’ll be okay. Two days, three tops. You won’t even notice I’m gone.” Dani’s eyes are locked to the ground. Lynn takes her hands, remaining until Dani meets her gaze. “You be careful too, okay? Don’t push yourself. If the sun drops past mid-afternoon and you’re yet to finish the snare route, save it for the next day. Everyone will understand.”

Dani doesn’t hesitate for a moment as she pulls Lynn closer, cupping her jaw on either side and pressing her lips firmly to Lynn’s. There is no searching for anything more, no intention for it to turn sensual. Merely a deep-seated need for love and comfort. Goosebumps flare to life but go somber at the red streaking through Dani’s eyes. “I love you, Wilder.” Dani’s words are barely audible over Lynn’s thundering heart. 

“I love you too, Settler.” The words are a natural reflex, but hold all the meaning they did the first time Lynn had uddered them. Maybe more now, because life without Dani is no longer an option. The woman wiggled into Lynn’s heart despite her protests and hooked on tight, opening Lynn up to the give and take of real love after so many years of what she thought was advisable — solitude. 

***

Dani's gaze burns into the tail of Lynn’s skull as she hikes over the cracking asphalt — the Homestead shrinking behind, Skeever sniffing the trail ahead. Birds and monkeys call in the distance, waking the half-sleeping world around them. The wagon of supplies, which is no more than half a barrel with two cockeyed wheels, rattles over each bump and dip the old-world roads offer. Although this is not Lynn’s first trade with the nearby settlements, it is her first time hauling this amount, not to mention she’s executing it alone. Every thirtieth day marks a new trade period. It’s a unanimous agreement throughout the surrounding settlements, allowing groups to replenish their supplies and prepare for the next trade. With the cooling weather moving in and the treetops and overpowering greenery shifting from lush bright colors to dulling reds, yellows, and browns, Kate has instructed Lynn on what it takes to make it through New York’s harsh winters. Trade becomes more harmful than helpful after the first snow of the year. The Homestead’s resources will dwindle with no way to replenish the garden until spring, relying on what they’ve been able to save, trade, consume from their chickens and goats, and whatever Dani and Lynn manage to hunt. With Lynn’s inexperience trading amongst groups, along with dangerous weather, Kate refuses to take any chances of being unprepared.

By mid-morning, the monotonous surveying of the city’s streets quickly lulls Lynn back into the trance she’s been desperate to get back to. Her mind relaxes to the most basic of instincts. Slight movements from beyond bushes or the rustling leaves as squirrels scurry above don’t go unnoticed, but other than that Lynn’s mind is left to wonder. Her past was so uncertain before Dani. The only things she’d been forced to focus on back then was when her next meal would be and if she’d find shelter in time for the night. Those thoughts no longer apply, at least not on well planned out trade routes. Lynn is well stocked on food and fire-making supplies, not to mention Richard had long-past mapped and secured hideouts along the most common roads she’d be traveling. It’s beneficial in many aspects, but Lynn is looking forward to the real thing. Her first scout.

Sweat clings loose strands of Lynn’s ponytail to her forehead. She’s been pushing herself, uninterrupted, for hours. Skeever’s trotting has slowed, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. Lynn sympathizes with him on the loss of use in his front paw. He’s been a trooper, never letting it slow him down, but over-exertion seems to be taking its toll. Not only on him but Lynn as well. Though she’s had time to heal from her own encounter with the mama bear, lasting soreness seems ever-present in her throbbing right shoulder. Now the sun is slowly sinking on the horizon. No more than another two or three hours before travel will be impossible due to the overtaking night. Lynn had prepared to spend the evening in a hideout about an hour’s walk from the settlement she’d be trading amongst in the morning, but she elapsed it well ahead of schedule. If she did the trade tonight, she’d surprise Dani at the end of her hunting loop tomorrow afternoon. As much as Lynn loved being free of the confines of the Homestead — with all its rules and small-talk — it is where Dani calls home. Having someone to sleep beside at night has become as much of a survival need as shelter or water. 

The always encroaching foliage of the Wilds disperses into trimmed trees and leveled grass around the small settlement ahead. They do their best to manage the growth, just as the homesteaders do, however, humans no longer outweigh mother nature in the claiming of Earth.

“Trade incoming!” the yell of a young man just entering puberty shouts from several stories up a weathered brick building. Lynn sweeps her head from side to side at the unnecessary outburst. Predators are scarce around settlements, but never absent. Skeever doesn’t seem to share the same worry. He bounds ahead, reaching the makeshift gate well before Lynn. Lynn approaches with caution. Her fingers tighten around the haft of her tomahawk. Although she has worked with these people on one other occasion, Kate by her side, years of hurt and danger at the hands of others is something one never forgets.

The corrugated metal comprising the gate swings inward. An armed man and woman stand guard on the other side. Lynn’s heart hammers inside her chest, threatening to bring up her lunch. She stuffs it down. 

Offering a forced smile, she lifts her chin. They return the gesture. It isn’t until Lynn is locked behind the fence that the stationed woman kneels, scratching Skeever’s neck while cooing in a high-pitched voice — as if he were an infant. A wave of relief washes away the panic, leaving her fighting the dizziness of retreating adrenaline. “How was the journey, Lynn? Uneventful I hope.” The man asks.

Lynn is caught off guard at the use of her name. He was familiar, but Lynn hadn’t bothered to affix a name to him the last time she was here. Either the man could read her mind, or Lynn’s face was revealing more than she intended. “Conner Hayweather.” The man holds out a hand for Lynn to shake, introducing himself. “And my wife, Gypsy.” He shoots a nod towards the woman who stands from where she knelt on the packed stone walkway.

Lynn has to fight the instinct to say she remembers their names. The last thing she wants is for this group to think she isn’t taking Richard’s role seriously. Instead, she nods and locks their names to their faces. “No run-ins thus far,” Lynn affirms Conner’s earlier question, hoping the way home would be much the same.

“Well, come on in and we’ll see if we can’t barter some good deals for both of us.” Conner helps lift the back of the wagon over the two steps into the building’s first floor. It’s much the same as the Homesteads. Dirt-packed floors, boarded windows, and a few flickering candles lighting a path to what Lynn assumes leads upstairs into their living quarters. 

Gypsy defends the open door, allowing enough light into the room for Conner to inspect Lynn’s wears. Cured leathers, furs, medicinal herbs and salves, smoked meats, hand-forged weapons, spirits, and even a few baskets Lynn had woven. Kate had instructed her on the things she is to collect in trade, so it isn’t long until she lets her gaze shift around the open space. It catches Lynn’s eye as Gypsy rests a palm on the tiny swell of her belly. Lynn can’t help but stare. She's encountered few children in her lifetime, most of them perish due to complications during birth or within the first year. The last person she recalled seeing pregnant was her mother. The woman had died during the birth of Lynn’s little brother; a mix of blood loss and unattained strength to expel the newborn from her body. Even at the age of three, Lynn still remembers the horrid screams and pleads that tore through her mother’s throat for hours. How loud the silence was after she’d passed on. In Lynn’s mind, pregnancy was a death sentence. A ball of nerves settles low in her gut, unknowing if Gypsy would be on guard the next time Lynn comes for trade, or if she’d be in the ground alongside their newborn.

After an hour of haggling, Lynn is on her way with nearly everything the Homestead needs for the cold season ahead. She even offered a fox fur at no extra charge to Gypsy as a gift for the baby. Lynn hopes it will land with good grace, used to swaddle the newborn on cold mornings, and not as a covering for a tiny lifeless body.

Skeever rushes ahead as Lynn waves goodbye to the settlement. Crimson the color of fire laps at the horizon, the outline of stars and crescent moon projected into the darkening sky above. With tomahawk in hand, Lynn quickens her pace, urging Skeever to match her movements. An hour of light left and an hour hike before she’s at the closest hideout.

***

Wolf howls accompany the call of owls and skittering of insects as Lynn hoists Skeever through the unlocked window of the old-world law firm. When there are no signs that Skeever has encountered danger within the small room of the building, Lynn pulls herself through. She drops the pack from her sore shoulders and digs around in the near blackness for the clay pot containing the animal-fat candle. After a few hits of flint on steel, the wick catches a spark and ignites the room in a soft glow. Skeever stands by the closed door, clearly a routine long instilled in him by Richard and continued by his new master. 

With the candle in one hand and her tomahawk in the other, Lynn twists the handle and winces as the creak of the door echoes throughout the bare building. Mildew hangs heavy in the air. Skeever trudges forward, nose to the ground, out of the ring of light. Lynn allows it, hoping he will sense if the hideout has been compromised well before she can.

As Lynn nears the front door, a low growl rumbles from Skeever somewhere in the distance. Lynn freezes, ice running through her veins. 

Skeever yelps.

Before Lynn can be sure what danger the dog has encountered, she charges in his direction with nothing more than fear for her most trusted companion egging her forward. Nails scratch over tile floors and the reverberation of a scuffle between animals in the primal fight for life breaks out. Dust kicked up from the floor hazes her immediate view. It isn’t until the ring of light encompasses the two beasts that Lynn breathes easy. Skeever trots over, laying his reward of a scrawny tomcat at Lynn’s feet. A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding escapes her lips. Her death grip on the weapon loosens. “It’s all yours, boy,” Lynn mumbles, tapping the tip of her boot into the limp creature.

With the remainder of the building scarce of anything else with a pulse, Lynn retrieves the cart from outside. Resetting the lock with her, Skeever, and the wagon all in one place drops the days’ tension. Exhaustion weighs heavy. She steels herself long enough to lay out her bedding and eat what little she can stomach in the presence of Skeever dismantling his own dinner.  
The moment Lynn allows her eyes to close, her body craves the familiarity of Dani’s. Lynn hasn’t spent a single night alone since accepting the trial period with the Homesteaders. Even on the few trades she’s been a part of, Kate was always within fifteen feet. Always a second pair of eyes and ears to keep them safe.

Lynn tosses from side to side in the silence of the room and beyond. After what feels like an eternity of nothing, Lynn calls Skeever to her side. He slinks close, flopping onto his belly. Lynn wraps her arms around his bulk and inhales his comfort. He squirms uncomfortably for a moment, the sudden hold normally reserved for moments of danger too grand for him to endure alone. It’s not quite the same feeling as Dani’s curves that fit perfectly within Lynn’s, but it will suffice for tonight.

***

Bird song and cicada buzz fill the early morning with life as Lynn stomps out the fire used to prepare a helping of oatmeal topped with apple chunks. She has to admit it is tempting to sneak a few drops of the maple syrup sitting in the wagon beside her, just to sweeten the mush. On the other hand, Lynn knows — especially on her first outing alone — it would be seen as taking food out of the Homesteader’s mouths. Cody’s words still bounce within her skull, “If you ever endanger them, I’ll kill you.” Even now, after pulling her own weight for months and biting her tongue around Cody and Kate, Lynn recognizes he wouldn’t hesitate. It’s an arduous battle ahead before she truly is seen as one of them. Trust is a near-impossible thing to earn; both parties included.

The road home, or to the Homestead rather, has a calming effect on Lynn as she traverses the cracking streets of the overtaken concrete jungle. Chilled air compensates for the multiple layers of protective clothing and a structured pace. Crows caw as they fly overhead. Lynn can almost imagine taking flight alongside them. The rush of wind through her hair and an aerial view of all the danger disguised in beauty. For the first time in her life, she feels as free as they are. Free to come and go, to spread her wings, but to also have a place to return when the nights are cold and the loneliness is undeniable. The Wilds are not for everyone, but it is a deep-rooted part of Lynn. No matter how terrifying they present, life out here is new and exhilarating. Somehow she has managed to secure a balanced mix of both.

Soon the streets converge into the well-known path of Lynn and Dani’s snare route. Even with aching shoulders and astonishingly sore feet, Lynn is determined to withhold her original plan of surprising Dani toward the end of her track. A hare hangs from the noose around its neck a few yards up the path. Lynn unloops it, tossing it onto the already towering pile within her wagon. “At least we know Dani hasn’t been through yet,” Lynn whispers to a begging Skeever.

Lynn resets the snare.

Tingles of lightning spark her chest as she settles against a tree trunk across from the trap. Lanky grass pokes up around her, concealing Skeever and her within its protective veil. Heat pools within Lynn’s belly, imagining Dani’s reaction to her surprise over and over again. After just a few minutes off her feet, sleep beckons. In an effort to fight off the effects, she plucks a bushel of grass, weaving the strands into a small bowl, tight enough to hold liquid.

Lynn hadn’t expected to finish the container before Dani came down the trail, but she had. Dani was still nowhere in sight. Her muscles tensed along with the boulder of worry that crushed Lynn’s guts. Dani most definitely should have been here by now. Stop worrying, Tanner. Maybe she got a late start today. Lynn remembers her words to the woman the morning she left, “Don’t push yourself.” Lynn knew better though; she knew Dani would finish the route even if it killed her. The altitude of the sun confirmed it was early evening. 

Lynn hitched herself up and with as much control as she could muster, she walked the trail toward the Homestead. It would still be a surprise for Dani to meet me on the road, she tries to reassure herself. It would also make her feel better the sooner she saw that Dani was okay.

Lynn passed three more snares, two of which still hung with prey. Her pace quickened with each one, not bothering to take the haul with her. Physical pain flared through Lynn as she came to the fourth untouched snare. Warning bells blared throughout her skull, blocking out any other thoughts. This isn’t right. Dani should have come this far, yet there was no sign she had. Lynn’s half-hold on sanity shatters. A jagged, “Dani!” breaks the silent harmony of nature. She takes off on unsteady legs at a speed she is sure will disturb the sound barrier. White spots dance within the hazy corners of her vision with each staggered inhale. Lynn travels the nearly two miles of the remaining track in a quarter of the time it would normally take, leaving behind the cart after its wheel caught on a pothole and toppled over. At that moment, she didn’t care what happened to the supplies, it didn’t matter. She could come back for it. All Lynn knew is something had to have happened to Dani, and that was the only thing present in her mind.

Skeever lagged behind, but only just. Lynn could see the blur of his tan fur at every intersection where she’d slow just long enough to check for predators. Although this was not lion territory, these were prime hunting hours for them.

The Homestead rose against the barren landscape surrounding it not unlike the massive Sequoia trees Lynn had encountered long ago on her travels. 

Flint not standing guard on the window washing platform confirmed an even deeper understanding that something had happened while Lynn was away. The woman’s fingers shake violently as she undoes the ropes of the swing gate, giving Skeever enough time to make it to Lynn’s side. He has become just as upset as Lynn, not knowing the reason but sensing the uneasiness in the air. The moment the gate is free, she smashes through the front door. Flames from the crude candles illuminate the room narrowly enough for Lynn to make out the trail of blood droplets leading up the stairs.


End file.
